Concerning Mistletoe
by Muggle Jane
Summary: AU, post-DH one-shot about broom cupboards and mistletoe.


**A/N: Completely unrelated to anything else I've written, fluffy Luna/Sirius Christmasy fic.**

I watched him walk in on a cloud of unease, moving to stand in front of the grand wall tapestry and stare at it. He was wearing black- fitting, I suppose, for a man named Sirius Black- and pushing his hand through his hair as though he was trying to push away his troubles. He didn't notice me, I didn't mind. It was hard to notice me sometimes.

"What are you hiding from?" I asked quietly. He gave a great start as he whirled towards me, already reaching for his wand, his grey eyes haunted with terrors from his past. He saw me, though, and straightened immediately, hand falling peacefully to his side. He stared at me for a long moment, pushing the shadows away from his eyes, back into his head where they would hide again.

I stared up at him from my seat on the floor under the window. The carpet was thick under me, the wall chilly through my warm woolen jumper and the fabric of my dress. I could feel the cold air that accompanied the sleet seeping in through the window, it was part of the reason I'd chosen this particular spot to sit in.

"I know what I'm hiding from, but what are you hiding from?" I asked again.

He didn't answer, instead looking down at me for a long moment. His face was carefully empty, but I could see the things moving around in his eyes. "Luna, is it?"

"It is." I offered him a smile, warm enough to banish the lingering haunted chill from his eyes, and he smiled a small smile in return.

"Well then, Luna, what are you hiding from?"

I looked up at him, my head falling back to rest against the chilled wallpaper, an ivory sea swirling with delicate silver vines. "Mostly my memories. Christmas hasn't been happy for me for the past few years, and it's not easy sometimes."

He walked over to me, stopping just in front of me and offering me a hand. "Come with me, I have something that just might help."

I eyed his hand for a moment, smooth and decorated with the silvery tissue of fine scars, then slipped mine into it and let him help me to my feet. He kept his grip on my fingers, guiding me gently from the quiet room and down the stairs I'd come up not so long ago.

"Not claustrophobic, are you?" He asked, glancing back over his shoulder at me.

"No."

"Good." There was the flash of a grin on his face before he returned his gaze in front of him, ensuring he didn't trip and send us both tumbling along the hallway.

There was a door, slightly different from the other doors, tucked away in the corner of the hall. The paint was slightly faded, the doorknob slightly tarnished. It was locked, too; Sirius Black tried the handle before pulling his wand out of his waistcoat with his free hand and wordlessly unlocking the door. It opened when he tried it this time, and he drew me inside and shut the door behind me.

It was dark, that didn't bother me. Sometimes the dark can be comforting. It didn't stay dark for long, though; the tip of Sirius Black's wand began to glow, brightening his face with a pale glow and casting long shadows about the small...

Broom cupboard. There was an old mop leaning against one wall, and an overturned metal bucket just beside it. The shelves that lined the walls just over my head were filled to the brim with glass bottles that glittered in the dim light. Most of them were full in varying degrees, an empty one standing sentinel on either side of the door.

His smooth voice, hushed in deference to the darkness, pulled my attention back to the tall man standing close enough that my shoulder brushed his arm. "After spending so long in Azkaban, sometimes it's comforting to be somewhere dark and enclosed." There was a trace of bitterness sliding along the bottom of his voice. "I don't come in here as much as I used to, but..."

I took my own wand out of the pocket in my dress and waved my wand, making the bucket large enough for two people to sit on, and then sank down onto it, tucking my dress underneath me.

Finally releasing my hand, Sirius Black pulled a dusty bottle off of one of the shelves and sat down beside me, opening it and passing it to me. "Christmas drink?"

I didn't normally drink but it seemed impolite to decline, so I took the bottle and sipped it delicately. It tasted like a candle flame mixed with cinnamon and ambition, and it made me cough. I passed the bottle back to Sirius, and he took it with a grin. "It's got a bit of a kick to it, but it'll chase away the chill."

It was noticeably colder in here than it had been in the drawing room upstairs, and I could definitely feel the warmth spreading down from my throat, across my belly.

After a moment, I took my wand out and sent red and green garland across the ceiling, shiny Christmas baubles swinging gently from them. It was hard to discern the colors from where we were sitting, with it being so dim.

I felt rather than saw Sirius Black shift as he looked up. "Well, it certainly is... festive. Never thought I'd decorate a broom cupboard."

"You didn't, I did. I like the decorations. They're so bright and cheery." I looked up at his profile, pale in the dim light. "Even in the dark."

He waved his wand, and small candles sprang up on the walls, spreading a warm yellow glow until the small space was just as bright as it had been in the front room where the Christmas tree was tinseled and decorated like it was wearing a cloak.

"Better?" There was a wryness in his voice, he sounded just a little like he might laugh at me.

"Much. But then, it's not very dark anymore, is it? And you said you like coming here where it's dark sometimes."

He looked over at me, a small smile on his face. "I like this even more, I think."

I smiled at that, a happy smile, and leaned my head against his shoulder. He stiffened under me, and it took a moment before he relaxed. Every so often I could feel him lift the bottle to his mouth and hear him swallow as he had a small drink.

Finally he said, "It gets a bit much. Harry looks at me with that, _I can't believe you're really here_ look, and Teddy looks so much like Remus... I was alone for so long that it's still hard to be around everyone sometimes." He took another drink. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"People tell me things. I suspect it has something to do with my eyes."

"Your eyes?"

"Yes. People tend to open their eyes wider when they're listening intently, and I have very large eyes to begin with, you see, so it's like I'm always listening intently." I paused, watching the candle flame in front of me dance. "I usually am, though. It's nice to be listened to."

We stayed for a while, sometimes talking and sometimes not. It was comfortable in the cupboard, though, pleasant. Much better than sitting against the wall under the window.

After a while, my eyes strayed up to the sprig of mistletoe hanging on the back of the door. I hadn't noticed it there before, it looked as though it had grown in over top of the door. "I used to think Nargles lived in mistletoe," I said quietly as I looked up at it.

"What's a Nargle?" I could hear the bemusement in his voice creeping around the broom cupboard.

"Sort of a little creature that lives in mistletoe and takes shoes and essays. They don't really, though." I looked up at him and leaned a little closer to whisper, "They don't exist." I settled back on the warm surface of the bucket, nodding.

His grey eyes twinkled gold in the flickering light from the candles as he studied my face. "You all right?"

"Mostly. A little bit not. I miss not knowing some of the things I know."

There was a very knowing look on his face as he nodded. "That happens a lot as you get older."

"I imagine it has less to do with age and more to do with experience and the passage of time. If you didn't age, I imagine you would still learn things you wish you hadn't learned."

He looked very much like he was trying not to laugh at me again. "I suspect you're right. Why the sudden interest in mistletoe?"

I pointed up at the little bunch clinging to the top of the door, and he turned his head and looked up at it. "It seems less special now that I know it's only used in potions and not as a home for tiny creatures."

"It's not only used for potions, is it?" He sounded amused again.

I thought for a long moment. "I suppose not. I've never had experience with the kissing bit, though. I avoided it for so long, you see, and now it's just habit." I sighed, looking down at my dress-covered knees. "Some habits are so hard leave behind."

He made a noise of agreement that echoed around the glass bottle before being swallowed by the drink he took. When he lowered the bottle again, he shifted until his arm was around my shoulders. "Christmas is time for wishes, isn't it? You could wish for Nargles in your mistletoe."

I considered it. "I could," I said slowly. "But I don't think it would do much good. And it's such a silly thing to wish for, when I know it's not going to come true. I'd rather wish for something that has a chance of happening, like people not looking at me like they do anymore."

"How's that?"

"All serious and worried, as though I was a balloon that was about to pop. I'm not a balloon, I'm a witch. I just don't feel like smiling all the time, that's all."

"I know what you mean." There was a tone in his voice that suggested he might have to deal with the same thing.

"You're not a witch, though, you're a wizard."

He gave a sharp bark of laughter at that. "I'm a bit relieved you noticed, really."

A silvery weasel swam through the door, pulling my attention up to it. Mr Weasley's voice came out when it opened its mouth to speak. "It's dinnertime, Sirius, if you want to come down to the kitchen." Mr Weasley always sounded kindly, his voice was almost like a like a hug.

Sirius stood and offered me his hand again. "Shall we?"

I took it and let him draw me to my feet again. The door to the broom cupboard opened, and all of our pretty decorations vanished as the bright light from the hall spilled into the room. The mistletoe hadn't gone, though, and I stopped in the doorway to stare up at it.

He'd kept ahold of my hand, and turned back to see why I'd stopped. His gaze followed mine, and a slow smile moved across his face. His hand slipped away and moved it to my waist, the other mirroring it on the other side. He stepped into me, keeping his eyes on mine as his face lowered towards me.

His lips brushed against mine once, and then again. And then he was straightening away from me, his hand finding mine again. "Let's go down for dinner, Molly makes a marvelous ham. No one will expect you to smile while you're eating."

Except I was smiling anyway.


End file.
